


you're tired and so am i

by charizard



Category: Free!
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Domestic Fluff, Drama, Established Relationship, Future Fish Au, M/M, Pro Swimmer Haru, Romance, Sousuke could be, and Rin isn't a policeman, except Haru's still a swimmer along with working at the restaurant, firefighter makoto, rated t for a few f-bombs, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-26
Updated: 2015-11-05
Packaged: 2018-04-11 08:05:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 14,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4427738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charizard/pseuds/charizard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Haru always waits for Makoto to come home. One night, he doesn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> EDIT: 11/6/15 so this was longer than i originally expected it to be and i feel like a right douche for putting off updating this for a while but here it is! sadly, this hasn't been beta-ed so it's probably riddled with typos and wtv. 
> 
> *title was taken from A Fine Frenzy's song, "Borrowed Time".

When the short hand of the clock finally points to nine, Haru sighs and begins clearing the food away. He wraps the plate of leftovers with cling wrap and stores it in the fridge. With another sigh of resignation, he pads into living room and settles down on the small two-seater sofa, his neck propped up on the arm rest. This is the third time this week and around the fifteenth time for this month. Haru had a lot of patience--having to deal with Nagisa’s antics required that. But really, there was only so much waiting he could do.

Haru falls asleep on the sofa at around a quarter to nine, the lull of TV conversation in the background. He dreams of water, naturally, and of being alone. He dreams he is stuck in a loop, like a whirlpool, except he isn’t dragged down to the bottom of sea. He’s only spun around more times than he can imagine but it never stops. Ships pass him by without ever noticing him there. On the ships are people. He recognizes Nagisa, Rei, Rin, Makoto and even Sousuke. They all pass by without even realizing he’s down there, alone, stuck. He thought Makoto would notice, Makoto always notices. But he doesn’t. In fact, Makoto is quite preoccupied. He’s holding the hand of a faceless girl and he’s smiling at her the same way he smiles at Haru.

The jingle of a lock rouses Haru from his strangely unpleasant dream. His knees ache from being bent for so long. A quick glance at the digital clock on the coffee table tells him it’s half past one in the morning. He slowly lifts himself up into a sitting position while he watches a familiar form silently slip into the flat.

“Makoto.” His voice is quiet but the other person hears it nonetheless, startling Makoto as he toes off his shoes. Green eyes meet Haru’s through the dark, faintly illuminated by the television.

Makoto winces visibly when he’s met with a cold gaze. “S-Sorry, Haru. I.. I got caught up. There was a fire and—“

“I know. I saw on the news.” Haru stands up and switches off the television before he heads to their bedroom without another word. Despite knowing why Makoto was so late, despite knowing it was for work, _and of course he’s so busy all the time, he’s a fire fighter after all, I should be glad he’s out saving lives_ , Haru exudes cold indifference. He doesn’t want to hear Makoto’s reasons. Instead of voicing out that Makoto should be at home and having dinner at a normal hour instead of out doing dangerous things, Haru decidedly shuts his mouth and goes straight to bed.

Half an hour later, Makoto slips into bed with Haru, after what he thinks was a quick reheated meal from the fridge from the clinging of cutlery he heard earlier. A hesitant arm curls itself around his waist and he relents, leaning back into the larger, warmer body of Makoto. “Good night, Haru. I love you,” he whispers into the back of Haru’s head, the words quickly lulling Haru to sleep. This time, he dreams he’s swimming with Makoto in the sea.

The next morning, Haru gets up at five, gently jostling Makoto to let go of him. Makoto is still blissfully asleep when Haru leaves to jog and head straight to the pool to train. He swims laps for several hours, not besting any of his recent records but not lagging behind in his training either. When he’s finished, his coach pulls him aside for a few comments on how he’s doing.

“You’re not getting any better but you’re not doing anything bad either. Maybe take it up a few notches. I’ll see you on Saturday for the friendly swim meet with the other teams.” Haru nods and gets ready to leave.

He’s tying up his shoelaces when one of the other swimmers goes up to him. “Hey Nanase, are you heading home after this? Want to grab a late lunch?” He looks up at the swimmer, Takahiro according to his team jacket, and he furrows his brows, confused.

“Why are you asking me?” Haru asks, turning around to grab the bag he stuffed into his locker yesterday. The offer is tempting; he’s hungry and they’ve just run out of mackerel at home. But then he remembers Makoto is at home and it’s his day off today. The idea of staying in and just being with Makoto sounds a lot more ideal. He can just buy mackerel on the way home anyway.

“Uh, well, you don’t really hang around with the rest of the team. I—I wanted to invite you out. To eat. Hang out.” The other boy sounds sheepish and shy. Haru feels the slightest bit guilty that he’s only learned the swimmer’s name now. “Are you busy this weekend then?”

Haru may have been dense but he’s not that thick. He quickly catches on and eyes Takahiro with a raised brow. “Sorry. I’m booked.” He shrugs, apologetically he hopes, and slings his bag over his shoulder. “See you.” He raises a hand in a small wave and leaves.

By the time he gets home, Makoto is wide awake and smiling as brightly as he usually does. “Haru!” He greets, head poking out from the kitchen. Haru hopes he’s not actually cooking anything in there. God only knows what happened the last time Makoto tried to cook.

“I’m home.” Haru says out of habit. Makoto replies with a loud “welcome home!” before he stumbles out of the kitchen and into the living room, a suspicious white powder over his shirt and his face. “What were you making?”

“I was, uh, trying to bake brownies.” Haru arches a brow and attempts to move past Makoto but he’s stopped by a strong lean arm going around his waist and pulling him towards a hard chest. “You can’t look, Haru! I made them for you. I promise I won’t burn the kitchen down. I studied up on it this time! Please trust me.” Makoto looks at him with that adorable, pleading look he almost never uses unless he really wants something.

Haru purses his lips for a contemplative second before rolling his eyes and planting his lips fondly on Makoto’s cheek. “Clean up when you’re done.” He says instead and goes to sit on the couch, putting his sports bag down on the floor next to his feet.

“Thank you, Haru!” Makoto positively beams at him before he rushes back into the kitchen. There’s a great deal of banging and clanging and several ‘are you okay’s and ‘I’m fine’s exchanged as time passes. Haru decides to trust Makoto not to ruin the kitchen, and if he happens to burn down the flat, well at least there’s already a fire fighter on the scene.

Two hours later, the smell of burnt toast mingling with freshly baked chocolate wafts in from the kitchen. Haru is pleasantly surprised it doesn’t smell all that bad. It might be actually edible now.

Curiosity getting the best of him, Haru gets up from the sofa and sneaks to the kitchen, peeking from the corners of the archway to see what Makoto was up to. He’s met with a broad back and a tray of normal-looking yet unevenly cut brownies on the counter. He can’t help the small smile that teases at the edge of his lips.

The kitchen, however, is a right mess. There are ruined batches of brownies in the trash bin, eggshells littering the counters and--is that Haru’s can of sliced pineapple open by the oven? Why would Makoto even need pineapple for brownies?

Annoyed, yet endeared all the same, Haru steps into the minefield and walks over to where Makoto is busy with wiping the spilled milk Haru hadn’t spotted earlier. “What were you doing with my pineapples?” He whispers right into Makoto’s ear, the other boy straightening with a start, looking like a proper child caught red-handed with his hand in the cookie jar.

“Haru! You startled me!” Makoto’s voice is high-pitched and he looks like a bag of flour was tipped right over his face specifically. “Didn’t I tell you to wait outside?” Haru answers with a grunt and gives an obvious tilt of his head towards the mess. “I know, I know. But look! I made an edible batch of brownies!” Proud isn’t enough to describe the bright expression Makoto has on his face as he picks up the tray and shows it off to Haru.

A smile finally cracks on Haru’s face and he leans over to press his mouth to Makoto’s, smearing a bit of the flour on himself. “Good job. Come on, let’s eat this on the sofa and then you can clean up when we’re done.”

Makoto makes as if to protest but thinks better on it and follows Haru out of the kitchen. He gives a glance towards the kitchen and cringes when he realizes how much cleaning he has to do but it’s worth it when it’s for Haru.

The pair each take a brownie, biting into them at the same time. Makoto stares at Haru’s face, gauging his reaction. His hard work is rewarded when Haru’s eyes widen and both his brows raise in a subtle shocked expression. Makoto smiles all the way up to his ears.

Later that night when the kitchen is clean and both Haru and Makoto are flour-free and in bed wrapped in each other’s limbs, Haru asks Makoto what gave him the idea to bake brownies all of a sudden.

Makoto clears his throat, shy all of a sudden, and hugs Haru tighter, burying his face in silky, black locks. “I wanted to make it up to you since you’ve always been waiting up for me.” It’s the answer Haru expected but it doesn’t fail to make his heart grow fonder for Makoto.

He leans up towards Makoto’s neck and nuzzles his face into the crook of it. “Thank you,” he mouths into the skin, his eyes fluttering closed. He falls asleep feeling Makoto’s pulse on his lips.


	2. Chapter 2

Clack, clack, clack.

Haru chops the green onions quickly then moves onto the bacon that’s still frying on one of the pans. The double doors to the kitchen open and suddenly there’s another order to prepare. He wipes at the sweat on his brows and uses his apron to dry off his hands before he prepares the other dish.

The small restaurant is buzzing with conversation and the whole staff has their hands full. From the kitchen window, Haru can spot Rin, who’s home for a month from Australia, sitting on one of the tables with Sousuke and Nagisa. Nagisa sees him from where he’s seated and raises his whole arm over his head, waving and catching the attention of most of the patrons. Both Rin and Sousuke visibly shrink at the attention. “Haru-chan!” Haru, in turn, looks away and ignores the group, returning to his job.

Hours later when his shift is over and the last people in the restaurant are the stragglers—namely Nagisa, Rin and Sousuke, Haru finally escapes from the kitchen and falls into the chair set out for him by his friends. “Hello, Haru-chan! You must be tired!” Nagisa stops in the middle of his story to tell him this before he continues to prattle on about Rei and the movie they went to the other day. Haru doesn’t actually care but he doesn’t mind the noise.

Sousuke spares him a glance and a slight inclination of his head. Civil and short, as always. Rin, however, takes to staring at Haru openly. “You look a bit tired. Sure you can handle tomorrow?” Haru is surprised at his concern. Usually, Rin isn’t as observant. He’s thankful for the concern though and replies with a terse nod. Rin quickly drops the subject and goes back to the conversation with Nagisa, interjecting with an equally loud anecdote of his own.

Haru looks at the time on his watch and frowns. It’s late. The restaurant closed later than usual today. He’s hungry and Makoto might be home already. And if he isn’t, he needs to prepare something to eat nonetheless. He also needs to watch the news. What if there’s a big fire in the area?

With a cursory glance at the remaining staff cleaning the tables, he stands up and waves. “Need to get home.” Rin understands, and the rest of the staff do too. Nagisa looks like he’s about to protest but Rin clamps a hand over his mouth.

“See you, Haru.” Haru nods and grabs the bag of takeaway he prepared earlier. He hopes Makoto is home.

The flat is empty. He realizes that when Makoto’s usual boots are missing. Haru slumps his shoulders and throws the bag haphazardly onto the coffee table. His appetite is gone. He takes another look around the flat and frowns.

Haru decides to wait up for a few hours. It’s two in the morning and Makoto still isn’t home. By this time, Haru is worried. He’s checked the news channel thrice already in the past hour, scoured the internet for anything else and he’s come up with nothing. What’s taking Makoto so long?

Just before the clock on the side table gets to three, an insistent knocking on the door rouses Haru from his drowsiness. He’s alert now. Makoto wouldn’t knock, he has a key of his own. Who would knock on his door at three in the morning?

Cautiously, Haru unlocks the door and peeks to check who’s there. All he sees in the dark is a slumped familiar figure draped on the back of another person. “Nanase?” The person standing asks, looking at Haru earnestly. He opens the door wider, light streaming in from window and illuminating the pair at his door. Makoto is slumped over the back of a person with the same fireman outfit Makoto always wears. “I have Tachibana-kun with me, Nanase-san. He passed out drinking.” Clearly. Haru can smell alcohol. A lot of alcohol.

Haru stares at the pair of them, irritated. “Dump him on the couch.” He says tersely, turning around and heading back to his room. He couldn’t be bothered with a drunk Makoto that couldn’t even text him he was out _drinking_ , of all things! A few minutes later, there’s the sound of the shuffling and the door closing. Haru grabs Advil from the bathroom and prepares a glass of water. He’s pissed, he’s extremely pissed, but he loves Makoto and as much as he wants to throttle him for making him worry, Haru sets down the medicine and water next to him. God, it’s three in the morning and he still has a race later.

Haru wakes up at six groggily. The swim meet is at eight and he needs to be at the venue by seven. He showers faster than he’d like—he doesn’t even have enough time to soak in the tub—and changes into the team jersey, Nanase spelled out in the back and the team name emblazoned on the front. In the future, that name would be replaced by Japan hopefully.

Makoto is still asleep, but the glass of water he put next to him has been downed. He feels a lot less pissed now and decides to refill the glass thoughtfully. He puts on his shoes and makes sure his swim cap, goggles and his extra change of clothes are all in his bag. His jammers are snug against his hips. Why bother with underwear when you can use swimsuits instead?

By the time Haru gets to the venue, the swimmers are milling around and talking. His coach spots him when he enters and waves him over.

“Nanase!” Haru purses his lips. He hoped he’d be able to get a few laps in before the competition started. He walks over to where his coach is with another person, probably the same age and probably another coach. “Ichiro-san here has been my friend for a long time. He’s the coach of the Japanese swim team!” Haru’s eyes widen and he looks a lot more interested now that he knows who the other person is.

“Ichiro-kun, this is Nanase Haruka-san. He’s one of the rising stars in my time. I’m sure once you see him today, you’ll know what I’m talking about!” Haru’s coach laughs loudly, slapping a hand against his back. He coughs and almost topples over but steadies himself. The other coach, Ichiro apparently, stares at Haru appraisingly.

“I’ve heard good things about you, Nanase-san. I saw one of your relays too, back when you were in high school still, I think. That was a pretty good relay team, if I do say so myself.” Ichiro looks impressed and smiles at Haru offhandedly. Haru is a little bit dumbstruck and decides to reply with a polite ‘thank you’.

The conversation is cut off when a voice announces over the intercom that the program will begin in fifteen minutes. Haru excuses himself and heads to the locker rooms where he strips off his clothes quickly. Rin is there too and stares at Haru again. “Stop it.” He slips his goggles over his head and lets them rest on his collarbone and then pulls on his team jacket.

“You look like you barely slept a wink,” Rin comments as he follows suit, his own team jacket standing out with its bright red colors and the word Australia running down the arm of it.

Haru takes a glance at Rin and shrugs, already making his way out of the locker room. “Makoto was late.” Rin frowns and follows, deciding to drop the subject.

The races, as it turns out, are a lot less competitive than he’s used to. Most of the swimmers there aren’t all that serious, seeing as it was just a friendly after all. Rin is probably the most serious swimmer there. It’s obvious when Rin slaps his swim cap against the water when he’s bested by Haru again in the 100m freestyle.

“Damn it! I almost had you this time!” Rin glares at Haru, although there isn’t any heat in it. Haru shakes the water from his hair and pulls himself out of the pool, taking a cursory glance at the scoreboard, making sure that _yes, that’s my name next to that number one there_ and then another, a lot more subtle look towards the line of coaches seated by the bleachers, specifically towards a certain Japanese swim team coach. He’s staring at the scoreboard, looking impressed, as Haru’s own coach next to him boasts loudly.

xx

“Haru.”

Haru puts his medals in the shoebox he keeps them in along with the certificates he’s given. He looks over his shoulder to find Makoto staring at him, looking guilty and freshly showered. He doesn’t deign to answer and pushes the shoebox back under the bed.

“Haru, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about last night. I swear, it was sudden and they just dragged me off to this bar and—“ Makoto looks at Haru pleadingly. He was quick to realize that Haru isn’t all that pleased with him. It probably had something to do with the fact that Haru hadn’t bothered to wake him before he left for his competition. “Haru, I’m sorry. I didn’t even get to watch you swim today.” Haru couldn’t care any less if Makoto wasn’t there to watch him. He’d rather Makoto just catch up on the sleep he’s been missing from going home so late all the time. Honestly, he’s spreading himself so thin with just this one job.

Haru still does not reply and keeps his back turned, standing now with his arms at his sides. The adrenalin of winning had already ran out and now his head’s pounding mercilessly against his skull. The sleep he’s sorely lacking from waiting up for Makoto all the time is finally taking its toll. Haru doesn’t know how Makoto does it, really.

Makoto is still there when Haru finally turns around but the look he gives Makoto is steely and cold. “I—“ he starts, the urge to explain himself stronger but he chokes down the rest of his words, quickly understanding that he probably shouldn’t say anymore. The worry inside him grows when he gives Haru a proper look. He looks like he could topple over any second. He looks so tired. His skin was paler than normal and if you looked closely enough, his eyes were sunken. Haru isn’t used to staying up all the time. Makoto is and he gets days off in between to recuperate. Haru doesn’t and he balances working at the restaurant and training too.

“You should rest, Haru.” Makoto says softly, taking a step closer, ready to catch Haru if he does actually topple over.

He hears Haru mumble something and he strains his ears his to hear but he doesn’t quite catch it. “What was that?”

“I said, I’m tired.”

“Then go rest, Haru-chan.” He tries for a smile, hoping it’ll ease some of the tension from the room. Haru gives him a piercing look before he walks past Makoto. “H-Haru, where are you going?” Haru pays him no mind as he heads straight to the door, already putting his jacket back on along with his shoes. “Haru?” His voice is small and worried. Where is Haru going? _Don’t go. Don’t leave me._

Haru’s voice is monotone when he speaks. “I’m going out.”

“But where? You need sleep, Haru. Stay and rest,” Makoto pleads, grabbing Haru’s hand to keep him there. _Stay with me._

It’s not the first time Haru has done it but it stings nonetheless. He shakes off Makoto’s hand and pulls the door open, stepping out into the hallway of their building. “Haru, _please._ ” Haru grants him another glance over his shoulder but his resolve doesn’t crumble despite the look Makoto is giving him.

He reaches the banister before he decides to speak up. “You need to rest too, Makoto. Don’t spread yourself out so thin. I just need some time to myself.” The finality of his tone leaves Makoto speechless. Heart in his throat and the love of his life out the door, Makoto retreats back into the flat and slumps into the bed. He shouldn’t cry, he knows that. Haru didn’t say he was mad. But why does his chest feel so tight?


	3. Chapter 3

An hour from when Haru left his flat, he finds himself in front of the Matsuoka house. He thinks it discourteous to ring the bell at this late an hour so he sends a quick text to Rin to let him in. He receives no reply but a minute later the door opens and Haru lets himself in, closing the door behind him, Rin already heading back upstairs to his old room. Haru follows suit.

“So, how many times have you fought now? Is this the second ever?” is what Rin says the moment Haru steps into Rin’s childhood bedroom. Posters of various old movies, anime and bands are still tacked up on the wall along with their old relay trophy proudly displayed on one of the top shelves.

Haru ignores the question in favor of looking around the room. It’s nostalgic, seeing the whole place the same as it always was. “What are you, eight?” Haru mocks, sitting himself down on the bed. Rin rolls his eyes and jostles Haru’s side with his elbow, prompting him again to answer the question.

“It’s the second time ever, yes.” Haru schools his expression back into a frown and falls onto his back on the bed, grabbing a nearby pillow and placing it over his head.

He hears Rin move around the small room, and when he takes a peek from his pillow, he sees the redhead sitting down on one of the beanbag chairs haphazardly thrown on one of the corners, writing into an old notebook. “What are you writing?”

“A log of your fight. Now tell me, what was it about?” Haru narrows his eyes at Rin and throws the pillow he’s holding at him. Rin dodges without even looking up from the notebook. “I’m serious, tell me what happened, you freak. Don’t expect me to accommodate you without you sparing any details.”

Haru contemplates throwing another pillow at Rin but decides against it. He sighs heavily and starts with the catalyst of the fight. “He got home three this morning, passed out and drunk. A friend of his brought him home.”

“What’s wrong with him getting drunk? Don’t you sometimes do that after competitions?” Rin counters, pointing the end of his pen at him accusingly.

Haru’s frown deepens. “It was after a job. He didn’t text me he was going out for drinks. I was waiting up for him all night.” His tone is rough and he feels a bit silly now once he’s voiced it out. Silly, but he’s still mad nonetheless. It’s not like that was the only reason why he was mad.

“I see.” Rin says, his pen scratching against paper as he jots something down. “This was after we met up at the restaurant, wasn’t it?” Haru grunts in affirmation. “Right. I assume there’s something deeper to this?” Haru grunts again. He hears Rin scribble into his notebook.

Eyes trained onto the ceiling, Haru recounts the number of times Makoto has been going home later and later. Initially, it wasn’t such a problem. He would only be late for half an hour or so, early enough to eat dinner with Haru at least. But then thirty minutes turned into forty, an hour, two hours, and longer than that. How much longer ‘til Makoto wouldn’t come home at all? He tells all of this to Rin, albeit in fewer words and in a single tone.

“He’s a fire fighter though, ain’t he?” Rin doesn’t write anything else into his notebook after that.

“He loves it, he really does. He loves saving people, making a difference.” Haru slings his arm over his eyes and sighs for what may be the hundredth time that day. “I’m scared I might lose him,” he says in a small voice, swallowing thickly. The mere thought of it already makes his hands clammy.

Rin only hums in response. Haru hears the familiar scratching sound again. “What the fuck are you writing anyway?” He sits up from his position and launches himself at Rin, quickly grabbing the notebook from his hands and holding it up to the ceiling to look at it. Haru laughs. And laughs, and laughs and laughs.

“Give that back, water freak.” Rin grumbles, snatching the notebook away from Haru’s hands. Rin wasn’t writing anything at all. He was drawing—at least that’s what it looked like he was doing, he wasn’t sure since what he was supposedly drawing looked a lot like scribbles mashed up together—the Australian flag, apparently. According to the title on top, at least.

“You suck at drawing, Rin.”

“Yeah, well, you suck at talking. Get back there and talk to Makoto.” Rin is actually useful for once and spurs Haru into heading back home. He leaves with a not so much as a wave but Rin grins at his back smugly on his way out.

xx

Of course, things aren’t always as easy in your head as they are in real life. When Haru gets home, Makoto is asleep in their bed, clutching Haru’s pillow to his chest. He tucks that image into the back of his mind and sighs, climbing into bed next to Makoto. As if on instinct, Makoto quickly replaces the pillow with Haru, his hands recognizing the lithe form of the swimmer even in his sleep.

The next morning is loud sirens and blaring horns that rudely wakes Haru up. Makoto is already bustling around the room pulling on his uniform and making his excuses so early in the morning saying that they need the whole team and _Haru I’m so sorry I really need to go they’re swamped and they need all the help they can get and I’ll see you when I get back I promise I love you stay safe please don’t leave the house it’s dangerous out._

All Haru can do is stare at Makoto with bleary eyes as he rushes out of their bedroom, his uniform still barely on. Once he hears the usual sound of the door closing, he sinks back into the sheets and buries his head in Makoto’s pillows. _Makoto, come home._

Makoto doesn’t. Haru doesn’t hear from him. Haru resumes his day like normal, his routine not faulting. He swims, he goes to work, he goes home and waits for Makoto like usual. The first day, Makoto doesn’t come home and Haru is up until four in the morning. Haru falls asleep on the sofa like that, curled up uncomfortably. He wakes up with a stiff neck and aching joints and his routine repeats.

The second day, however, has Haru on the edge of his nerves. He checks his phone several times throughout the day and it’s the most he’s ever used his phone since he bought it. The only messages he receives are from his coach, one from Takahiro, surprisingly, asking again if Haru is up for lunch which he ignores, and other updates from Rin whom Haru quickly filled in on after Makoto’s no-show. Rin tells him there isn’t anything on the news about anyone dying in the recent big fire, none about the fire fighters or the victims.

By the end of the day, Haru’s at the edge of his wits with worry. _Makoto, please come home._

It’s the second night Haru is waiting up and this time he has a mug of coffee with him to keep him awake. It isn’t even that late yet but then Haru hears the jingle of a lock and it has him up on his feet and running to the door, wrenching it open. Makoto practically falls into the flat. He looks like he hasn’t showered in days and his face is covered with soot, his hair is charred and there are burns on his hands that Haru zeroes in on once Makoto takes off his gloves.

Makoto doesn’t say anything and heads straight into their bathroom, running his hands under the cool water from the faucet. Haru follows after him and leans against the doorway, watching Makoto with a worried expression. He has so many questions but he feels like if he said anything now, he’d end up with too many words in his mouth.

From the mirror, Makoto’s eyes look lifeless and withdrawn. His face is suddenly sharper and he sees the beginnings of stubble lining his chin. What was he doing the past two days?

Once Makoto finishes washing his hands, he makes to head for the bedroom but Haru blocks the way and suddenly Makoto’s eyes are less lifeless when he notices Haru is actually there. “H-Haru..” Makoto’s expression breaks and then he’s in Haru’s arms, hunched over and forehead pressed to Haru’s shoulder as he sobs quietly, his form trembling.

The last time Makoto ever broke down like this in front of Haru was too long ago, the memory already lost in the sea along with that ship that sunk. Haru stiffens, not knowing what to do so instead he holds Makoto close and lets him cry. His fingers run through his sooty hair while his other hand holds Makoto up as he slowly slides down to the ground, bringing Makoto with him.

That night, neither of them sleep. Makoto cries for what seems like hours while Haru holds him. Once the crying has died down, they both sit like that with Haru’s back against the wall and Makoto’s forehead still pressed to Haru’s shoulder. When light finally streams in from their windows, Haru gently shakes Makoto to signal that it’s time to get up.

“Haru.. I can’t—I can’t move. I saved her but she still died, Haru. They brought her to the hospital and everything. But she died, Haru. If I—if I were faster, if she didn’t inhale that much smoke, she could have

lived… If I were there in time to stop the beam from falling on her, she would have lived, Haru!” A fresh wave of tears assaults Haru’s still damp shirt and Haru can do nothing else but resume the comfort he’s been giving Makoto the past few hours.

“It’s not your fault, Makoto. It’s not. Shush now. It’s not your fault.” He rubs his hands in small circular motions into Makoto’s back. “Come on now, we have to get you cleaned up.” Haru slowly stands, pulling up the sobbing Makoto with him and steers him back into the bathroom. “Take off your clothes now.” He says softly, as gentle as he can, because no matter how mad he could be at Makoto for blaming himself, for not bothering to call to say he was okay, Makoto didn’t deserve the amount of pain he bore for himself.

As Haru divests Makoto of his clothes, he turns on the tap and lets the warm water fill the tub. Once Makoto is naked, Haru grabs the showerhead, setting the pressure to gentle, and wets Makoto’s hair, face and arms where most of the soot has collected. The soot is rinsed off quickly and now Haru guides Makoto into the tub.

“Stay in there for a while okay? You need to let the water—“ Haru is cut off when Makoto suddenly grabs his hand, his grip tight and pleading. “Makoto?”

Makoto finally lifts his head and looks up at him, the water still streaming down his face. “Don’t go.” Haru’s throat goes dry and he can only nod as he sits himself back down on the edge of the tub, still holding Makoto’s hand.

“Could you tell me why you were gone for so long?” Haru finally asks, eyeing the ripples of the water that stem from Makoto’s body.

The green-eyed boy, yes, boy, because he looks so much like the little boy that used to cling to Haru and cry at every single thing, shrugs and only tightens his grip. “The girl.. The girl I saved, we brought her to the hospital once we got her out of the fire. We didn’t know her next of kin so I accompanied her. She—they had to hook her up to everything once we got there. She was so banged up and I—I couldn’t leave knowing that she still wasn’t all right.” Makoto pauses for a shaky breath. “She died today.”

Haru nods solemnly, that part he already knew. He can’t help the vengeful thought in his head. _Better her than you._ “Makoto, I think you should.. You should quit while you’re ahead.” Haru finally says what he’s been thinking these past few days that Makoto hasn’t been home. This is what he resolved to do. Once Makoto made it home, he’d tell Makoto what he needed to say. He couldn’t take it if he lost Makoto to his job, to the fire.

Makoto’s grip on Haru’s hand suddenly slackens and falls to the water. “I can’t.” This is the answer Haru expected too.

“I’m tired.” He says heavily, standing up and exiting the bathroom. Makoto doesn’t even lift his head when the sound of the front door closing is all that’s left.


	4. Chapter 4

It’s been three weeks since Haru left their flat with a bag full of only his necessities. He left everything else, even his heart, with Makoto.

He ducks his head down into the water and closes his eyes, holding his breath there for several seconds before he resurfaces and leans back against the tub.

“Nanase, you’re taking too long in there!” Yamazaki’s voice carries over into the bathroom through the door. Haru grimaces and stands, the water cascading off his body in rivulets. If he were at home, Makoto would have let him stay in the tub for at least another hour. But with the situation as it is, Haru really has no choice seeing as Sousuke’s only tolerating his presence because he owes Rin a favor.

When Haru left his and Makoto’s flat, he went straight to Rin’s house but was instantly booted out of the Matsuoka home. “I can’t have you sulking in here. My cousins are visiting and there isn’t any space,” Rin had told him apologetically over the phone as he rode on the train, following the directions written on a scrap of paper that had been unceremoniously shoved into his hand once Haru explained his situation to Rin. “Head over there. I promise it isn’t a dump.”

Haru could have just as easily gone to a hotel but instead he found himself face-to-face with Yamazaki who looked nonplussed to see Haru there. And from then on, it had been three weeks that he and Yamazaki were cohabiting with, surprisingly, minimal arguments.

“Nanase, please bring something other than mackerel to eat when you get back later.” Haru only snorts in reply. Sousuke decides to take that as a neutral answer. “And you’re wasting all the hot water. Be glad I’m not making you pay rent.” Haru rolls his eyes and continues to ignore Yamazaki, heading to the guest bedroom, also known as his room.

He sits on the bed and goes back to drying his hair, staring at his feet aimlessly. It’s been three weeks and Makoto hasn’t looked for him. Makoto hasn’t called him, left him any messages, nothing at all. All the better, Haru supposes. It’s better for them this way, isn’t it? Haru loves Makoto, he really does, but it was his decision ultimately to leave Makoto there in the tub. He knows it was an irresponsible thing to do especially since the last he saw Makoto, he was a sobbing mess. But if he stayed there for any longer, he probably wouldn’t be able to tear himself away from Makoto’s side. It was his self-preservation instincts kicking in that had him packing.

He spends several minutes there thinking and missing Makoto, the towel having fallen to his lap at some point. He doesn’t notice when Yamazaki stops by his door and stands in the doorway, staying as he broods over his thoughts. “Rin says he’s doing well.” Haru looks up, the surprise evident in his eyes for only half a second.

He stares at Yamazaki dubiously. He knows what Yamazaki is talking about but he’d rather not comment on it. If Rin says Makoto is doing well, then Makoto is doing well. He’d rather he remain ignorant about just how well he is.

“Okay.” Haru picks up the towel that lay forgotten on his lap and walks past Sousuke into the hall. His face is set into a carefully neutral expression but his thoughts are a mess and why is his heart beating so fast? It’s the first he’s heard from Makoto, even if it’s just by word of mouth, in weeks and it really isn’t all that surprising that he’s doing well. Haru knows Makoto can take care of himself. But a small selfish part of him, the part that’s conceited and flawed and all the things Makoto would hate about him, was hoping that Makoto would have a hard time with Haru gone. It’s the part that regrets leaving in the first place and deciding to not talk it out at all. If only Makoto were as needy and dependent as Haru, then he’d have an excuse to come back, start over and never let go of Makoto again.

xx

“—se. Nanase!” Haru surfaces from the water and looks for the person that called his name. He’s surprised to see that it was his coach. Usually, his coach lets him swim for however long he wants as long as he does his required number of laps. And besides, Haru isn’t in the middle of any intensive training. Nonetheless, Haru swims over to that side of the pool.

His coach isn’t alone apparently. With him is a familiar-looking man that looks about to be the same age as his—oh. It’s the Japanese swim team coach Haru realizes belatedly. “Nanase, you remember Ichiro-kun from that friendly, don’t you? He’s been here since this morning and I had him watch you practice. He says he’s very interested in you.” Haru takes off his goggles and stares at the man in question.

“Haruka-kun, I can call you Haruka-kun, right? Anyway Haruka-kun, I see you’re steadily progressing. Your performance at that meet last month was superb and you even beat that swimmer from Australia!” Inwardly, Haru snorts. “If you’re ever interested in swimming for the country, I would be happy to have you in the national team!” Ichiro flashes him a smile that he’s probably used on all his swimmers. “You can always contact me from your coach. Just give him the word.”

“Woah, Nanase. You just got scouted!” From behind him, Takahiro exclaims and then swims to his side, slinging a companionable arm over his shoulder. “I mean, we’re all pro swimmers here but you’re—you’re more pro!” Haru gives the offending arm a sideways glare before shrugging it off and climbing out of the pool.

“Hey Nanase!” Takahiro follows after him insistently, his steps making loud wet sounds on the tiles. “Are you sure you won’t reconsider lunch with me? I know this place that serves great mackerel.” Haru pauses in his steps.

“Mackerel?”

“Yeah. You reconsidering now?” Takahiro sounds triumphant at having finally found something that gave the usually stoic swimmer pause. “Great! Let’s get changed and then head straight over there!” Takahiro doesn’t even wait for Haru to reply and goes on ahead by himself, a spring in his step.

Haru decides that yes, he deserves some mackerel right now. And it’s not like it’s a date or anything. He goes out for lunch with Rin and a few other swimmers all the time.

So why does Haru feel incredibly guilty as he walks into the usual diner with someone other than Makoto? Takahiro shows off the humble establishment like it’s a rare find, which, Haru grants, it sort of is since there aren’t that many diners that serve mackerel.

“I ate here a couple of days ago with the team and then one of the other guys mentioned you’d love this place since they have mackerel on the menu. I didn’t know you liked mackerel, Nanase-san.” Takahiro keeps up an endless stream of chatter that Haru doesn’t even bother listening to.

Somewhere in the middle of their meal, Haru’s eyes are drawn to a familiar head of hair that just entered. His eyes grow wide and he drops his chopsticks. No, no, not now. Fuck, how did he get talked into eating lunch here again?

Makoto is suited up in his usual uniform and he talks to the cashier amicably with the air of someone who’s been here hundreds of times. He gesticulates with his arms vaguely to the person behind the counter who says something before pointing in Haru’s direction and then suddenly Makoto’s green eyes snap to Haru’s own blue ones. “Haru?”

Haru abruptly stands up and throws a few notes down on the table. He doesn’t even finish his food before he hightails it out of the small diner. He doesn’t look back when Takahiro protests and calls after him. He doesn’t look back when he hears quick footsteps following after him. “Haru, wait up! Please, let me talk to you!” Haru shakes his head furiously and breaks out into a sprint. He doesn’t want to listen to what Makoto has to say. Not because he refuses to come back but out of fear that it’s just Makoto asking him to come pick up his things and _how are you, Haru? I’ve been feeling a whole lot better since you left and I got a new girlfriend too! How about you, Haru-chan, are you in the national team yet?_ Except Haru knows Makoto wouldn’t say that, not in those exact words anyway. But knowing Makoto, Haru knows that whatever he’s going to say, he’s going to smile that same god-awful smile that always crumbles Haru’s resolve and turns his knees into jelly.

By the time Haru’s run all the way to Sousuke’s place, a full fifteen blocks, he’s huffing and puffing but at least he’s lost Makoto. Hopefully, Makoto doesn’t know he’s staying at Yamazaki’s and wouldn’t look for him there. With his spare key, he unlocks the front door and bustles inside, shirt damp with sweat and his breaths coming out short and ragged. Inside the small apartment, Haru is alone with his thoughts and he decides to take another bath.

In the bath, he goes through all the different reasons why Makoto would run after him. Most of them are from that particular hopeful side of him. His more pessimistic train of thought though suggests that he just badly needed Haru to get rid of his things. Knowing Makoto, he’d be too nice to throw it all out and would protest that it would be such a waste and _Haru, these are your important things, even if you don’t think they are we need to keep them!_

The click of a lock sounds from the doorway and Haru hears Sousuke shuffle inside the place while talking. He’s on a phone call, maybe? Or is the postman outside?

“—you doing here? Nanase? Don’t know where the hell he is.” Just as Haru’s standing up to dry himself off with a towel, he stiffens and almost drops the towel in the tub.

“But Rin said you’d know where he is and he gave me your address. He didn’t say where Haru was specifically. Sousuke-san, I really need to know where Haru is, please.” Makoto’s voice is a bit faint from where Haru is in the bathroom so he cracks the bathroom door open just a little, hoping that the door doesn’t creak as he does.

“Look, Tachibana, if you’re looking for Nanase, you’re better off looking somewhere else. Have you tried going to his practices?” Yamazaki sounds exasperated, his voice a lot louder now that he’s in the house. Makoto seems to have followed him inside, his regard for manners forgotten all of a sudden.

“I haven’t but I don’t think Haru would appreciate it if I showed up and bothered him while he’s training and—“ Something makes Makoto stop in the middle of his sentence. “…Isn’t that Haru’s sports bag?”

“..Shit.” Sousuke cusses audibly and then glances over his shoulder in the direction of the bathroom. “You can get out from there. He knows you’re here.” Haru sighs and shuts the bathroom door stubbornly, pretending that he hadn’t heard anything.

Makoto is quick to catch on and Haru hears footsteps nearing before they stop and then there’s a shadow below the door. “Haru, you don’t need to talk to me. I just—I need you to hear me out.” He can hear Makoto’s short breaths and he guesses that Makoto ran all the way here too. There’s the sound of the door closing again and Haru assumes it’s Yamazaki deciding to give them a bit of privacy.

“That night that you—you left, I was a mess Haru. You know why. And when you told me to quit, I wanted to. I honestly did but then I remembered all those relieved faces of the other people I saved that day and I just couldn’t.” Through the door, he can feel Makoto lean his forehead against it. “I want to save people, Haru. I want to make a difference. But I can’t lose you too.” Makoto’s voice cracks and suddenly Haru’s heart is squeezing painfully.

For the next few minutes, there’s nothing but silence. Haru would think that Makoto had already left if it weren’t for the faint breaths that he’s hearing from the other side of the door. “I thought about it. I’ve—I’ve talked to someone. About the girl, about the trauma and the stress. I’m okay now, Haru. It’s why I’ve only started looking for you. The fire department is giving me a bit of leeway and they’ve rearranged my schedule to better hours now.” Haru’s breath hitches and he can’t help but feel his heart go out to Makoto, sweet caring Makoto who’s still thinking about him and trying to cater to Haru’s wants even when he’s not even there.

“I’ve talked to the girl’s family. Apparently they were out for a short vacation. They were devastated to know that she was gone but—“ Makoto’s voice goes horribly raw and broken and Haru thinks that he isn’t quite okay yet but then his voice changes almost completely, a lot more whole and serene. “But they thanked me for saving her and for making sure that she died with someone by her bedside, caring about her.”

“That’s wonderful, Makoto.” Haru finally pipes up, his own voice sounding foreign to his ears. He’s happy for Makoto, he truly is. He’s glad that Makoto’s finally found closure for something that he thinks is his own fault but he doesn’t want to be having this conversation, not when a feeble part of him wants to run and hide. He can’t bear to face Makoto when such a shameful side of him still remains. Makoto’s working so hard to make it all better and here Haru is, stuck in a loop of his feelings and indecisiveness.

“What I’m trying to say is,” Haru can hear Makoto’s deep intake of breath. “I’m better now, Haru, and I want you back. I want to apologize for making you wait for so many times and making you put up with me.” No, no, nothing’s wrong with Makoto, _you did nothing wrong it’s me it’s me I’m the one that tore us apart don’t apologize I’m so sorry stop thinking everything is your fault._

“That’s all I came here to say, Haru. I—I’ll accept whatever decision you make. Think it over, okay? I’ll be waiting, always. I’ll wait for you, Haru. As long as you need.” Haru doesn’t dignify that with a reply because if he opens his mouth, he’s afraid that the first thing he’s going to say is ‘take me back.’

There’s the sound of retreating footsteps and Haru panics inwardly. Makoto can’t leave, not now. He has so many things he wants to say but no way to string up enough words together to properly articulate what he wants to say. In the spur of the moment, he throws the door open. “Makoto I—“ Haru stops himself there, not really sure what he’s about to say. Makoto turns around and looks at Haru properly for the first time in weeks. He can feel Makoto’s gaze as if it’s a tangible object sweeping over him. He only belatedly realizes that he’s in his jammers. It’s obviously not the first time Makoto’s seen him like this but the obvious want and need in Makoto’s stare makes Haru’s insides stir something awful. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

Green—no they look more olive in this low lighting—eyes snap back up to his face and Makoto smiles like the beautiful thing that he is and Haru swears that his heart just skipped a beat. “I’m glad you’re doing well too, Haru.” Makoto ducks his head in a bow and then slips out of the apartment quietly, leaving Haru’s heart beating like crazy—and he knows that he left his heart back at their old flat too but apparently Makoto gave it back to him through the sheer magnitude of his smile.


	5. Chapter 5

For the past three days, Haru has done nothing but bathe, think, sulk, swim, eat, sulk some more, swim, work, think, think, think and then work again. He hasn’t contacted Makoto since.

It’s not for lack of trying. Haru has stopped counting the number of times he’s picked up his phone and just stared at Makoto’s number on the screen. He’s stopped caring that Sousuke has caught him at it most of the time with but he’s glad that Yamazaki’s refrained from commenting and has taken to snorting and shaking his head instead.

Makoto has gone over twice to check on Haru, though he’s not really pushing for an answer. He comes over, Sousuke tries to make an excuse on Haru’s behalf—which Haru thinks is actually pretty decent of him since they both still aren’t on very good terms—and then Makoto gives up and leaves. Both times he brings over peace offerings of mackerel and canned pineapples.

“Y’know, you really should give him an answer soon,” Yamazaki suddenly says in the middle of dinner (they’re having the mackerel that Makoto brought over.) Haru grunts and continues to eat his meal. “He’s trying real hard. My opinion isn’t really worth much but—“ Sousuke shrugs, picking at the mackerel on his plate.

“If you aren’t going to eat that, bring it here.” Haru says without looking up, selectively tuning out the rest of what Yamazaki’s saying. Sousuke doesn’t give Haru the satisfaction of finishing his meal for him and practically inhales the rest of the mackerel. Haru only snorts.

xx

“Alright swimmers, pack up, practice is over!”

Haru climbs out of the pool and quickly heads straight to the locker room to avoid Takahiro, the insistent and slightly irritating little git, who has been tailing him since this morning. He’d rather not make his excuses for running out on Takahiro the other day. Haru had been a bit sullen during the last practice so Takahiro gave him a bit of leeway but now it felt as if there was a dog hot on his heels.

“Nanase-san, wait up!” Haru shuts the door to the locker room as fast as possible, effectively locking out the earnest swimmer. This earns him a few looks from the other swimmers but he ignores them and swiftly changes into his clothes, not bothering with a shower.

When he takes a tentative step out into the open, he’s a bit relieved to see that Takahiro is out of sight. He’s just about to make a break for it when his coach suddenly waves him over. “Just the man I wanted to see! So, I hope you haven’t forgotten about that offer Ichiro made you so I took the liberty of accepting it for you! You have a lunch meeting with him… in fifteen minutes so better hop to it! He’ll meet you at that fancy-looking restaurant a couple blocks down.” Without so much as a word from Haru, he’s unceremoniously dragged out of the gym and into the busy street.

Ten minutes later he’s at the said restaurant, looking lost and mildly confused but the maître d' takes pity on him and guides him inside once he’s explained that _I was supposed to meet someone by the name of Ichiro here and—yes sir we have it all sorted out please come this way we’ve reserved a private table for you would you like a glass of wine?_

It’s been five minutes and Ichiro still isn’t there so Haru decides to take them up on the offer of wine. When it’s been a total of twenty minutes since he’s been waiting, Ichiro finally decides to show himself with an apology and a hastily prepared envelope shoved into his arms. “These are all the documents regarding your joining of the team. You’ve just got to sign the contract, we shake hands, have a great meal and then we’re done! So instead of you practicing at your old gym, you get to practice at the national stadium with the nicer pool! Isn’t that great? I heard from your old coach that you’re quite taken with pools, more so than a swimmer should.”

Ichiro starts throwing around the phrase ‘old coach’ as if Haru’s already signed the contract. This puts him off to a certain degree but he skims the contract and reads over certain lines several times. “I know about the pool. I’ve swum there.” He doesn’t actually pay that much attention to the contract and he’s only using it as an excuse so that he doesn’t have to listen to Ichiro talk for so long. But yes, the pool is quite nice and he’d like it very much if he could swim in it again so it’s pretty much a done deal by this time.

The contract is signed with Haru’s hasty scrawl and he’d want nothing else but to leave as soon as possible. “Thank you, Ichiro-san, I appreciate the offer for lunch but I really have to go and—“

“There’s a fire!” One of the waiters shout and then there’s chaos everywhere. People start to panic and glasses are dropped, plates are broken and some of the tables are even upturned. “Calm down everyone! Let’s all get out of here in a calm and timely manner and—“ but no one pays the waiter any heed. They all push past him to get to the door.

There’s a fire, there’s a fire, there’s a _fire._ Haru’s mind briefly flashes to Makoto and he wonders for a second if he were to stay put, would Makoto come save him?

From his position, Haru can see no clear way to get to the door with the sudden hoard of people blocking it. From his left, he can feel the heat coming from the kitchen. If he were to incline his head a bit, he would see the flames licking through the kitchen doors. The fire has gotten to be so big already and there are still people in the restaurant, Haru included. He starts for the door but from the corner of his eye, he sees a little boy, no older that seven, poking his head out from under the tablecloth.

“Come on, get out of there.” He says to the kid, holding his arms out uncharacteristically. He’s not a fan of children but that didn’t mean he’d leave one to die in the fire. “We’ve got to—“ The roar of the fire is loud in his ears. The glass that separates the dining area from the kitchen has broken and the fire quickly spreads from the counters to the drapes and then to the carpeting. “Come on, kid!” The boy stares up at Haru with tears in his eyes and then, to his immense relief, finally climbs into Haru’s arms just as the tablecloth catches fire.

There isn’t an immediate way to the door that hasn’t already caught fire. They’re the only ones left in there and _god damn it how long does it take for the fire department to get here?_ Haru holds the child tightly against his chest, making sure that his face is shielded from the flames. With one hand supporting the boy’s bottom and the other holding his head towards Haru’s chest, Haru has no hands to spare to cover his mouth with. His pants have already caught fire and he’s moving as slowly as possible because the floorboards are creaking and he can hear the ceiling give way to the fire.

He can feel the flames lick at his skin, trying to draw him back and keep him from escaping. The child in his arms whimpers and holds on tighter. Haru coughs. It feels like his lungs are trying to escape through his mouth. His throat is incredibly dry but he thanks the heavens that he still has his swimsuit on and it’s still a bit damp. The wetness feels heavenly on his thighs and it’s the only thing that keeps him up as he braves the flames.

After what feels like hours but were only actually a few minutes, Haru makes it out of the fire. His face is covered in soot and his clothes are charred in some places but he’s safe and there’s fresh air and he can breathe again and thank god he can still go tell Makoto that he wants him back too.

He slumps to the floor, coughing like mad. At some point, he begins to taste blood in his mouth. “Nanase-san? Are you alright?” Haru recognizes the voice as Ichiro’s. “We need a medic over here!” He vaguely notes that his hands are trembling, now that the adrenalin rush is gone.

Where’s the kid? Haru panics and looks up at the crowd of people surrounding him. Some of them have their cameras pointed at him and people are pushing each other to try to get a good look at the unlucky muck that almost got burnt to ashes.

“Hey, isn’t that the swimmer Nanase Haruka?”

“He was featured in that swimming magazine!”

“He saved that little boy!”

People are crowding around him and suddenly the fresh air feels a whole lot staler and his lungs feel like they’re going to give up any second now. Makoto, _I need Makoto._

As if the gods are answering his prayers, a familiar voice rings out through the crowd. “Haruka!” A man pushes past the crowd and crouches down to where Haru is. He looks up at the familiar stranger and blinks. He can’t see all that well but he thinks he can vaguely recognize the other man’s face. Strange. He looks just like Makoto.

“Haru, Haru!” Haru feels like he’s being jostled around as he’s pulled into the strong arms of the stranger. “Where the fuck are the paramedics?” Haru frowns at that. The stranger shouldn’t cuss. There are kids here. “Haru, stay with me. I need you to breathe in and out, okay? Take deep breaths.” Haru doesn’t need to be told what to do. He knows how to breathe. Nonetheless, he complies with what’s being asked of him, deciding to humor the kind stranger.

“Haru, we’re going to get you to a hospital soon, okay? Don’t worry—“ He can’t hear the rest of the words. The last thing he sees before he shuts down is a beautiful green sea that reminds him of Makoto’s eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so this is long overdue but I've had this chapter written for like ages now. i just wanted to post everything up once i actually finished the thing. i haven't been able to write for this in months now but i've actually found the time (wow imagine that) so here it is.


	6. Chapter 6

When Haru opens his eyes, he’s shocked into wakefulness when he’s met with blinding white. The smell of antiseptic assaults his nose and he can feel the fabric of a hospital gown chafe against his skin. He sits up and tries to gain his bearings, quickly realizing he’s in a hospital. Momentarily confused, he tries to recall the previous day as he lies back down. He remembers practice, lunch, signing on to the national team and then—and then he remembers blistering heat, bright orange and a boy huddled under a table. He remembers thick smoke and burning. He remembers strong arms and a face he’s seen a hundred times before. He remembers bright green eyes that bore into his own before he lost consciousness.

“Makoto.” He says aloud, loving how the name rolls off his tongue so smoothly like each syllable was carefully chosen for him to enunciate.

A nurse bustles in a minute later. “Nanase-san. Good morning! Do you know why you’re here? Splendid. Let’s check your vitals.” The nurse flashes Haru a tight smile, clearly practiced. She doesn’t even give him time to answer or protest, already jostling him gently into an upright position. “The firefighter who brought you here in the ambulance was here a while ago. Friend of yours? Tall, dark and handsome type? Green eyes?”

Haru blinks and gives a small nod. “I made him go home and rest. He’s been here since you were brought in. But not to worry, he’ll be back in the afternoon!” To say that Haru is relieved is an understatement. He’s glad that Makoto waited up on him but he’s ecstatic to know that Makoto wasn’t caught up in that huge fire like Haru was.

His vitals are taken quickly and then the bandages wrapped around the burns on his skin are replaced. Haru zones out as the nurse continues to babble, preferring to wonder where they put his jammers and if it would be alright to slip them on under his hospital gown. He decides it probably isn’t since they haven’t been washed and he’s not sure how long he’s been out. His jammers would smell like smoke, most likely, but he’d prefer that than the scratchy hospital gown.

A few minutes later, Haru belatedly realizes that the nurse is gone and he’s all alone in his hospital room again. The solace is only temporary.

A knock resounds against the door and then Haru’s wondering who it could be. He doesn’t get to guess because the door is opened unceremoniously and reveals several heads all at once. A warm feeling blooms in his chest and he’s actually glad to see Rin, Nagisa, Rei and even Sousuke.

“Haru-chan!” Nagisa wails and jumps onto his bed, wrapping his arms around his form gently. “We were so worried, Haru-chan! How are you? We heard from Makoto and you look terrible!” Haru rolls his eyes and places a hand on Nagisa’s shoulder. He silently communicates to the others to get Nagisa off him but they all seem unlikely to cooperate until Rei starts dragging Nagisa off with a huff.

“Nagisa-kun, Nanase-senpai is still recovering and you really shouldn’t be jumping him like that.” Nagisa has the grace to look ashamed before he quickly bounces back and settles for leaning as close as possible over the bed without actually getting on it. Haru notes that Rei still hasn’t dropped the habit of calling him senpai.

Rin is uncharacteristically quiet in the background, his hands shoved into his pockets while he stands next to a brooding Yamazaki who looks like he was only there because of common courtesy. “You all right?” Rin starts, taking a step forward and looking Haru over with a brief sweep of his eyes. Haru only shrugs.

Rin grunts and gives him another appraising look before he nods to himself, as if confirming something, before he strides closer and smacks Haru upside the head, albeit gentler than usual. There’s already a protest on his lips but Rin beats him to it. “Have you no sense of self-preservation, you freak? You had us all worried, Jesus Christ! Leave the saving to Makoto! We don’t need any more hero complexes around here, there’s already Makoto for that!” Rin’s tone is harsh and he probably doesn’t mean half of what he’s saying but Haru can tell he’s genuinely worried from the way he runs his fingers through his hair restlessly.

Haru doesn’t apologize—he knows Rin would have done the same if he were in the same situation. Instead, Haru affixes a small not-quite-smile on his face and nods. “Thank you for worrying,” he answers, voice monotone.

Sousuke is the only one that hasn’t spoken yet and he looks surprised to find out that everyone is looking at him expectantly. “Uh—“ he starts, awkward and fidgety like he hadn’t expected to actually talk or anything. He assumed his presence was enough. He pauses for a moment—or maybe three—and he’s only spurred into talking again when Rin elbows his side and shoots a sideways glare in his direction. “Er, I’m glad you’re okay, Nanase. I mean, you’re obviously not okay okay but I’m glad you’re alive—“ Haru snorts.

“Thank you, Yamazaki.” He replies politely but not with the usual civil indifference he reserves for people he doesn’t get along with but has to. After that, Nagisa starts talking again and everything feels normal. Haru only half-listens, catching snatches of the conversation. Rei is arguing with Nagisa amicably while Rin chimes in from time to time. Yamazaki is quiet as always, watching the exchange only briefly before his eyes snap back to Haru a few times—like he’s just as worried as the rest of them. Haru probably shouldn’t sell him so short—they’ve known each other for a few years now and were cohabiting nicely up until the past week.

Sousuke decides to sit in a chair by the window and looks as rapt as Haru—which is only so much. Rin sidles up to the bed and places a companionable hand on Haru’s shoulder, squeezing gently. And then he’s lowering his head and mumbling in Haru’s ear. “Makoto knows you’re awake. He called me to tell you he’ll be back with a change of clothes soon.”

A message Makoto specifically left for him sends Haru’s heart speeding which is made obvious as the beeping of the heart monitor goes faster. Rin notices it immediately and smirks at Haru knowingly. “He said he understands if you don’t want to see him yet—but I’m pretty sure you do so I’ll pass the message along.” Haru scowls at having been seen through so easily and rolls his eyes, leaning back into his pillows. “But seriously, are you alright? I mean it not just physically, Haru. I can tell him you’re resting and he can just leave your clothes with a nurse.”

Haru is uncharacteristically touched at Rin’s concern and responds properly with a shake of his head. As much as he dislikes confrontation, he misses Makoto dearly and he’d rather get it over with. Yamazaki was a pretty decent flatmate but Haru’s only human and he can only hold out for so long against Makoto. He’s surprised he managed a week, let alone three and then some.

A little over an hour passes with casual conversation, mostly from Nagisa, and soon people are being filed out of the room by a tiny nurse who looked ready to bite all their heads off, Haru’s included. He’s handed a tray of food (pudding, porridge and orange juice and Haru’s face sours the moment he notes that there is no sign of mackerel in his meal.) It looks like the nurse would take it upon herself to force-feed him if need be. He doesn’t give her the chance to.

Once his meal is finished, the nurse makes him lie back down with strict instructions to _rest because you need it you may have a swimmer’s lungs but no one was made to inhale that much smoke and you look like you really need it so lie down or I will get in there and pin you down by your shoulders_ and not exactly in those words but Haru knows a thinly-veiled threat when he hears one.

It’s hours later when Haru wakes up from a two-hour nap and the door to his room opens again. He sits up immediately, ignoring the way world shifts abruptly that sends his head spinning. He visibly deflates when the person that comes in isn’t Makoto. Instead, it’s his coach, his other coach, the new one, and a few of his teammates. He’s surprised that they’re actually there to visit him but he appreciates it nonetheless.

Ichiro-kun smiles at him apologetically like it was his fault he was caught in the fire and tells him he doesn’t have to start practice until next month and that he should work on getting better. Haru only shrugs and thanks him politely. His coach inquires after his well-being and only nods when Haru repeats what the nurse told him. His teammates congratulate him belatedly for making the national team and they all leave him get-well cards and some even have the gall to string up a few balloons for a laugh. Haru makes a face at all this but they’ve all known him long enough to see that he’s not particularly bothered. Takahiro is there too and he brings Haru a bouquet that makes his nose wrinkle.

They’re only there for fifteen minutes before they’re all filing out again without a reminder from the tiny nurse from hell earlier. Haru is left alone in his room and his heart warms unusually at having this many people concerned over his well-being.

The door opens again and Haru is half-expecting the nurse to be back, probably with a whip ready to threaten him with if he doesn’t go back to resting, so Haru is surprised to see that it is someone definitely taller that enters.

“Makoto.” Haru says, his voice only slightly above a whisper. Makoto has a bag over his shoulders and he looks like he hasn’t slept in a while but he’s clean and Haru can smell his aftershave even if he’s by the door. He’s still breathtakingly beautiful.

Makoto looks relieved to see him awake. He sets the bag down on one of the chairs and looks him over before he sits down beside the bed and leans his head against the cool metal of the railing. “You look like hell.” Haru lies, feeling like his tongue is in his throat.

Green eyes look back up at him and he can see the way they crinkle up just slightly in a small smile. “Says the person who’s in a hospital bed.” Haru rolls his eyes and puts a hand over Makoto’s so naturally as if he’s forgotten that they haven’t had a proper conversation in so long—which he has and when he remembers just a second after, he freezes. He’s about to snatch his hand back but Makoto turns his over and curls his fingers, keeping him there. It’s the first time they’ve touched in weeks and it feels glorious to finally feel Makoto’s warm palm under his. “How are you?”

“My head hurts a little, my skin feels prickly and stings in a few places and I don’t smell like chlorine. I feel like death.” It’s the most honest answer to a ‘how are you’ Haru’s given today. Makoto only frowns and rubs his thumb over Haru’s skin unconsciously. “But I’m fine.” The _now that you’re here_ goes unheard but it’s understood all the same. Makoto’s frown lessens and he leans forward, pulling up the blanket up to Haru’s shoulders even though he’s sitting up.

“How are you?” Haru shoots the same question back, eyes narrowing in an almost imperceptible worried expression.

Makoto doesn’t answer immediately. Once he realizes that the blanket just won’t stay around Haru’s shoulders because such a thing as gravity exists, he directs his attention to the get-well cards and the single bouquet on the bedside table. His brows furrow together like he’s disappointed in himself for not thinking of bringing Haru some flowers himself. He wonders who the flowers are from. The thought of them coming from anyone but him makes an ugly feeling bloom just behind his ribcage, not unlike the one he felt when he saw Haru in that diner with someone other than him days ago.

He snaps his eyes back to Haru’s and only remembers that he was just asked a question. “Um, I’m okay. They let me go with you in the ambulance and I was too worried about you to be any use to the team so they didn’t bother making me go back to help.” Haru nods and squeezes Makoto’s hand briefly. He looks over at Makoto the same way Makoto did to him and he can’t help but worry about his sunken cheeks and the circles around his eyes. How long had Haru been out?

He voices the question, surprised that it only occurred to him just now. “Three days, give or take. You’ve woken up before this but not really? They pumped medication in you so you probably don’t remember. This is the most lucid you’ve been really.” Makoto curls a hand over his cheek, brushing his fingers gently over a small burn just under his cheekbone.  “I’m so glad you’re okay, Haru.”

Haru smiles at Makoto for the first time in weeks and nods yet again, not trusting his voice to not crack. All the tension from the room is suddenly vacuumed up and it’s not an issue when Makoto leans in and Haru does too and then their lips are meeting in the middle. If the heart monitor spikes up dramatically, Makoto doesn’t comment because that would be hypocritical of him since his is beating wildly against his chest.


	7. Chapter 7

There’s no question to who Haru is coming home with once he’s finally discharged. He’s not surprised to see that the things he brought to Yamazaki’s are there before he is.

Makoto is gentle and caring—even more so than usual. He’s taken time off from work to take care of Haru and fuss over every little thing like he’s wont to. He makes sure that Haru eats properly—although it’s still Haru that prepares their meals (there was an argument about who gets to cook which was silenced once Haru brought up that he would likely end up back in the hospital if Makoto would do the cooking) but Rin comes over from time to time to prepare a meal or bring takeaway.

Sometimes, he’s accompanied by Sousuke who affixes Haru with a stare and then nods to himself. Haru likes to think he’s planning to out Haru by divulging all the pining and moping he did in the past few weeks. Rin says he’s probably just worried _like the rest of us and you’d think you two would be friends now but two brooding personalities like yours are so hard to get along with, let alone with each other._

It’s pleasant and domestic but Haru knows there’s an underlying tension still between him and Makoto. It’s not an elephant in the room—it feels more like a cat that slides between his legs from time to time to remind him that it’s there.  He knows that they should talk it over soon and not let it fester but Haru likes it when it’s pleasant and domestic and knows that Makoto does too. It’s not that he’s ignoring it. He just prefers to put it off. There isn’t any problem with how they’re doing now and he wants to just forget about it and pretend it never happened.

Haru tries to do just that. He pretends like the past month didn’t actually happen and that he and Makoto were a happy couple like always. Except, it’s hard to pretend when Makoto keeps a picture of the little girl he couldn’t save on their mantle and lingers over it. Haru doesn’t recognize the girl the first time he sees it. He asks Makoto about it and then he only realizes who it is when Makoto stiffens and clenches his fists.

It’s even harder to pretend when a month passes and Makoto notices he’s not wearing his team jacket as he leaves for his first practice for the national team. It’s then that Haru realizes that he hasn’t told anyone about making it aside from his teammates and his old coach. And even then, they only knew because they were there when he was scouted. Makoto’s reaction to the news is surprised and elated but Haru doesn’t give him much time to react since he says it just as he’s leaving. He gets a phone call from Rin later who yells at him over the phone for not saying anything but Haru can practically hear him beaming over the phone.

It’s hard to pretend because if Haru pretends, then that would mean Makoto hadn’t broken down, that Haru hadn’t been scouted, that there wasn’t a fire that nearly killed him. It’s hard to ignore when there’s glaring proof every time Haru takes off his shirt and sees the marks on his skin like a brand.

Makoto goes back to work the same time Haru does and then they’re like clockwork again. Haru comes home earlier than Makoto and prepares their dinner, mackerel (and mackerel topped with pineapples on days when he’s feeling adventurous), Makoto arrives a little later and they both settle down to eat and talk. They talk about Haru’s new team and Makoto’s new work hours—although they work around the reason why Makoto even has new hours. It’s nice until the proverbial cat in the room rears its ugly head and proverbially scratches his legs with sharp proverbial claws.

It happens when Haru is cleaning up his shoebox of medals and certificates. He sees the medals from the friendly from months ago and his heart clenches painfully at the memory. Makoto is behind him fussing over the trophies on their shelf and getting them to fit because _Haru you win too much maybe we should get a new shelf_ and only notices he’s talking to himself when Haru stops replying with grunts. He turns around and goes to sit on the floor next to Haru, looking down at the medal in Haru’s hands. Normally, Makoto recognizes all the medals Haru has because even if he’s not there to watch the race, he makes Haru show him what he’s won each time. It’s troubling to him that he doesn’t recognize this one—nor the others that are all dated on the same day.

“When did you get those—“ he starts, head tilting curiously before he recognizes the date and just how long ago that was. It’s not like him to forget Haru’s wins and then the proverbial cat is up in his face meowing so loudly, it makes his ears ring. He’d practically forgotten about those in the wake of the fight that started it all.

Haru doesn’t even answer him and puts the medal back in the box, shoving it back under his bed. Makoto’s afraid that Haru’s going to leave again and the insecurity and guilt claws its way out his chest. He’s relieved when Haru takes Makoto’s hand and they both stand up together. The weight of Haru’s hand in his own is comforting and it grounds him the same way that familiar scent of chlorine does.

“We should talk.” Makoto can only nod even though Haru isn’t looking at him as he’s led to sit on the sofa. Haru has let go of his hand but their thighs and shoulders are touching.

They’re silent for several minutes, neither feeling up to the task of actually talking about what’s been looming over them for months now. Haru was the one who finally addressed that fucking proverbial cat because it was grating on his nerves and it seems only fair that Makoto should be the first to talk.

“I was a mess those three weeks.” Makoto starts with because it’s true. He was lost and miserable and Haru wasn’t there. “I got better, you know that, but it wasn’t easy. It was hard and I missed you a whole lot.” Haru nods as he listens but he doesn’t look up. He’s afraid to see Makoto’s expression because if he knows just how hard Makoto had it while he was gone, he’s going to feel inexplicably guilty.

“Rei was the one who suggested I see a therapist. I didn’t want to but he and Nagisa dragged me out of the rut I was in and Rin set an appointment for me. They were a huge help.” _And I wasn’t_ Haru thinks bitterly. He feels extremely selfish now to have walked out on Makoto when he needed him the most. “The thought that kept me going all the time was that ‘I’m getting Haru back once I’m better’. I think my heart broke a little when I saw you at the diner for the first time in weeks.” _With someone that wasn’t you_ Haru finishes for him.

There’s a pregnant pause after that but it’s broken by the shaky sigh of relief that Makoto releases as he grabs Haru’s hand and holds it so tightly, Haru’s can feel his bones grating against each other. “I was afraid you’d found someone new.” Makoto’s voice is small and he sounds so afraid and insecure. It tugs at Haru’s heartstrings violently. “But of course that didn’t mean I wouldn’t chase after you. I did, didn’t I? All fifteen blocks.” Makoto laughs bitterly after that but he sobers up quickly. “Why did you run?”

Haru’s expecting the question when it comes but he doesn’t have a proper answer. He slowly takes his hand back from Makoto and rubs at his knuckles with his fingers. “I was afraid of what you might say. I was afraid you were only making me take my things.” Haru’s own voice is a lot shakier than he’d like it to be and he feels so unlike himself and so unsure. He used to not care about times or about winning or about love but now he cares about these things so much and he cares _too_ much about Makoto.

Makoto looks at his face then. Suddenly, there are arms wrapping around his shoulders and hugging him close. They’re both insecure and unsure but it’s comforting to have each other. “Haru, I would never do that.” Makoto presses his face into Haru’s hair and inhales, smelling chlorine and that underlying scent of skin and scalp. It smells so much like Haru that it overwhelms him and makes the tension seep from his shoulders. The need to talk about anything else dissipates, only leaving the urgency to touch—to feel.

Haru feels like he should say more, why he left, why he was in that diner with _someone else that wasn’t you because I didn’t know it would be there I just wanted lunch and I swear it felt like someone punched me in the gut as soon as we walked in._ He wants to say he never meant for Makoto to suffer alone and if he could go back in time and be there for him, he would _because you don’t deserve to have people leave you like I did and I’m such a fucking ass I’m so sorry Makoto so so sorry I’ll never leave you again I promise._ He wants to say he was miserable too the whole three weeks and how it felt like he’d probably not get out of bed if he didn’t have swimming and prospect of getting to the national team to drive him forward. It used to be Makoto that made him get up but with him gone for those miserable few weeks, he only had swimming to look forward to.

But Makoto doesn’t need to hear all this because he wouldn’t be Makoto if he didn’t know what Haru was thinking by the set of his shoulders or the way his lips curled or just by the way Haru was at that specific moment. Instead, he runs gentle fingers over Haru’s skin and under his shirt, memorizing the new bumps and marks by touch. His mouth travels from Haru’s hair down to his cheek and then to his neck where it stops and just mouths against the skin there.

Haru’s hands are slow-going but they’re with a purpose as they move up from Makoto’s hands, his forearms and then his biceps where Haru traces the sinews of muscle with his fingertips. His mouth is parted and his lips are wet from him licking them too much. His hands roam further until they reach Makoto’s back and slip under his shirt. Haru revels in the way the muscle under his fingers shifts each time Makoto moves. He uses his fingernails to run over Makoto’s shoulder blades and then over familiar planes that Haru knows so well. Their position should be uncomfortable, curled up against each other on a small two-seater couch, but it’s the most relaxed he’s felt in so long.

The entire exchange is probably the most intimate thing they’ve done despite sex and everything else. It feels so familiar and yet it’s like they’re testing uncharted waters. There isn’t an urgency to see who can make the other take their pants off fast enough like they’re only operating under borrowed time. Instead, they’re focused on touching and feeling and memorizing each other again as well as the backs of their hands.

They get as far as taking each other’s shirts off and then exploring the newly-exposed skin with their hands again but the whole time, their eyes are on each other. Makoto’s eyes are blown, the pupils dilated, and he looks so intense and tender at the same that it makes Haru avert his gaze, his face hot and his skin flushed as he opts to nuzzle his face into Makoto’s neck. It’s the first time in a long while that Haru has felt shy—in front of Makoto of all people. Makoto seems to understand at once because he laughs and drops a kiss to Haru’s head, his hands stopping once they reach the small of Haru’s back.

“I love you,” Haru breathes, not exactly saying the words but he knows Makoto will get it. He always does.

It should be unusual for him because Haru’s the one who says it first when it’s usually Makoto that whispers it like a secret and Haru only smiles at him in response. But it’s not. It feels like the most natural thing in the world to hear it from Haru when in actuality, he can count on one hand how many times Haru has said it to Makoto. It makes the space under his ribcage tighten tenderly all the same.

“Are you tired?” He whispers to Haru as his thumb rubs small circles into Haru’s skin. His eyes are closed and if he listens hard enough, he can hear Haru’s chest thumping against his own.

Haru nods and makes a small noise in the back of his throat. He doesn’t want to move. Makoto smiles against his hair and feels the exact same sentiments. “So am I.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and that's that! i've put this off for so long that i completely forgot just how much i love writing makoharu. this is probably riddled with typos and wtv since it hasn't been beta-ed and i'm way too lazy to go through all of it again. thanks for keeping up 'til now! kudos and comments are always appreciated!


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